Smirk, Brewster!
by AAluminium
Summary: It finally was the peace he had been seeking. Although he was always at odds with the people around, he had a bunch of friends who could always bolster him when it was necessary.


It finally was the peace he had been seeking. Although he was always at odds with the people around, he had a bunch of friends who could always bolster him when it was necessary. There were no harbingers of worse times to come: Ben kept cramming things obviously pursuing his dream to enroll Yale University and Abe dallied with Annie, who still went bright red when was teased. It was a careless childhood, wasn't it? They all had their dreams, and, in essence, followed them – by the book, not hitting a wall, enjoying the expectations they were to meet.

He himself didn't have a great reverie he would be so eager to chase: it was just fine to be here, helping others. It seemed the easiest and hardest way around as Caleb was okay with everything life foisted on him – there were people he could rely on, and they didn't ask anything in return, nor did he; they played together, imagined themselves soldiers and rebels, sharing the roles Tallmadge had picked up from the books – that smart boy was always into sciences. Woodhull – not so much, though he also liked reading. _We never considered Annie as a lady from the stories they both found, did we? She's been the spunkiest pirate I've ever seen in my life!_

Hitherto, they were happy. While Ben and Abe supplied the gang with the parts to play, Anna and Caleb add some burst of emotion, conflagration of enthusiasm, authentic ebullience and intrigue. By those games, they taught each other to take wild guesses, bend rules, and vouch for one another's actions, for what it's worth. But there was something he recollected more vividly; this reminiscence did wielded more power over other memories as his best friend eventually interceded. Abe and Caleb had a skirmish – a silly one, but the latter couldn't cope with the illogical approach Woodhull advised to take. This time they had to work as a team; oddly enough, Brewster had a whole strategy to snatch both Annie and Ben who could swallow the bait he had prepared – and the magistrate's son revealed his doggedness.

"Caleb," Abe's eyes glimpsed with obvious vexation, "Listen to me! They're hiding somewhere around, we just need a trap!"

"No, Abe, we need to lurk," Brewster said mildly, adjusting his rakish hat he had purloined from his dad to look like a dandy. "When they think we've abandoned the place, they come here and we catch them! As simple as that!"

"It'll take hours!"

"Your trap will take us hours to arrange!"

"It won't!"

"It will!"

"It won't!"

"It will, Abe!"

"How do you know? You never snared people!"

"Did you?" Brewster grinned, raising his eyebrows.

Oh, that's how they started fighting. A melee that brought nothing but bruises and gashes, but Caleb won. Well, he would if not for Ben, completing a mission of a reconciler.

"Caleb, you didn't have to," said Ben, tapping the abrasion with a square of cloth. "You know Abe. You should've given him a few minutes to let loose."

"That's what I did! Didn't you hear that?" Brewster smiled wide, looking at his friend with total loyalty in the eyes. "I beat the shite out of him. Because you're no fool who'd fall into a trap."

Tallmadge glanced at the graze on the forehead and pressed the cloth against it – Abe wasn't a skillful fighter, but sometimes he managed to do the right thing. "Caleb, you can't combat your own confidants."

"I do not. I had to return the favour, you know?" he laughed and removed the tatter from the skin. "Look, I'm a soldier now. Next time I'll be holding the squadron!"

"You will," Ben smiled and patted his friend's shoulder with his pale hand, "just don't get into a fight again, alright? I'll talk to Abe. I know you wanted to add some taste to the game, and he took it too seriously. Don't think he really wanted to hit your that desperately. Be careful next time you suggest something. That's Abe, you can expect anything," he cackled vaguely.

This was the opaque support he lacked nowadays. Ben got ossified, aloof – and nothing saved him from that, not even his closest friend who could accept anything and forgive anything.

"My, my," came the nervous, unctuous and yet unpleasant voice that sent chills down the spine. "Rise and shine, Brewster, rise and shine! We have a long confabulation ahead!" Simcoe splashed a bucket of water over the tied man. "Don't say you're so tired you can't talk!"

"Well, I am tired of your drab attempts to make me talk," I moan barely audibly still trying to smirk. Hell, that's more than just painful. "Show me something rare."

"Oh, I will," his eyes narrowed, his thin lips curled in a sadistic sneer. "Trust me, I do have things in store. And I am sure you'll enjoy every single unit I have in mind."

With this he puts his bayonet in the fire place behind me.

Smirk, Brewster. That's the only thing that's left.


End file.
